


It's Bellamy

by Ithuriel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Firefighter Bellamy Blake, M/M, Murphamy - Freeform, Musical References, Slow Burn, Violinist Murphy, wedgie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20367193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithuriel/pseuds/Ithuriel
Summary: After a month, Bellamy finally got a text. They hadn’t been avoiding each other, they just didn’t have a lot of opportunities to see one another. Murphy had stopped eating in the cafeteria, even when Bellamy told him that they could sit together. Murphy felt like all of Bellamy’s friends hated him (probably because of his past actions), so he hadn’t felt comfortable with the invitation. They didn’t have any classes together and they both had things to do after school. Bellamy had his internship with the fire department while Murphy stayed in the orchestra room after school for hours. Bellamy had tried hanging out with Murphy at later hours, but Murphy never seemed to be home at night. Bellamy didn’t like to assume, but he had strong suspicions that Murphy spent his nights with the reapers.





	It's Bellamy

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction contains music. If you wish, you may choose to listen to the pieces before, during, or after reading.  
Adagio for Strings, composed by Samuel Barber, played by the Dover Quartet: https://youtu.be/lKrxPTePXEQ  
La Partida, composed by Carlos Bonet, played by Duo Passionato: https://youtu.be/rPUy5AL9fP0

The cold, evening air chilled Bellamy to the bone. He had just finished training with the firefighters, leaving him soaked with sweat but with a feeling of satisfaction. The wind was slicing through the wet parts of his bunker gear, creating patches of cold. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and picked up his pace, wanting to get home as fast as possible.

He was grateful for the opportunity to train with the department, a privilege not many could claim their junior year. Sergeant Pike, a friend of his mother’s, had connections with the fire department and was able to set Bellamy up.

Pike made it his responsibility to look out for the Blakes when their mother died. He made sure Bellamy stayed involved with school and convinced Octavia to take up self-defense training when she was stuck in depression. Even though the Blakes received welfare from the government every month, Pike sent them a bit of money that allowed them to participate in an independent-living program instead of foster care. Now, Pike was reinforcing Bellamy’s future.

Bellamy had always wanted to help people. He remembered carrying Octavia to bed when she would fall asleep on the couch. He remembered mowing his neighbor’s lawns for a dollar. They would insist on paying more, and would give the money to Aurora when Bellamy refused it. Something about making others smile satisfied Bellamy. Now he gets to make a career out of it.

As Bellamy crossed the block and approached the school, he heard a cry of pain. A moment later, he heard a crack of wood and a painful wheeze. Bellamy broke into a sprint and rounded the corner into an alleyway. Two guys stood in front of another who was doubled over with a splatter of blood at his feet. One guy had a club and was tapping it on the ground.

“Hey!” Bellamy voice boomed. The two assailants turned with animosity, only to see who it was. The first teenager lowered his club and glared.

“Look who it is, Jones. Mister Do-Good is out past his bedtime.” The first guy said, raising his voice in mockery. Jones forced out a laugh but eyed Bellamy with caution.

“You should leave.” Bellamy suggested, slowly puffing his chest. He knew there weren’t many people his age that would fight him.

“Let’s go, Mbege.” Jones proposed, reaching for the club. Mbege snatched it back and slowly walked around Bellamy, never breaking eye-contact. Jones followed his friend and gently pushed the thug when he continued to stare at Bellamy.

“That package better get to its destination, cockroach.” Mbege threatened the boy in the alley before scuffling off. After a few moments, Bellamy turned to see Murphy propped up on the brick wall.

“Wow. The legendary Blake, here to save me.” Murphy quipped, only to start coughing.

“Should I have ignored you and kept walking?” Bellamy questioned, crossing his arms. Murphy didn’t seem to know what appreciation was.

“Everyone else would.” He replied, wiping blood from his sharp nose. The two boys looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. A shiver ran through Bellamy, reminding him of the cold. Murphy seemed to experience the same reminder and picked up a small sack from behind him.

“Should I ask what that is?” Bellamy rose an eyebrow.

“It’s none of your damn business.” The shorter boy snarked. He rubbed his nose again and moved past Bellamy, walking faster than anyone had the right to after being beaten in an alley.

Bellamy snorted as Murphy’s silhouette became smaller and turned the corner. He disliked ungrateful people, especially those who thought sarcasm was a personality trait. He restarted his pace and headed home.

When he got to his complex, he saw Murphy chatting with a girl. Bellamy stopped by the stairs to listen.

“… I’ll do it, but you need to be more direct, John. If you don’t tell them yourself, they’ll keep doing this.” The girl said, indicating his wounds. Murphy opened his mouth to respond but stopped when the girl pointed at Bellamy with a deformed hand. Murphy turned and narrowed his eyes. The skin around the right one was already turning a pasty yellow green.

“Following me now, huh? How desperate for gratification are you?” Murphy cracked, raising his arms questioningly. Bellamy rolled his eyes and began up the stairs.

“I live here, dumb ass.”

~

“That kid is a bitch.” He said to Octavia. They were sitting on their one couch. He was reclined back, and Octavia was using the remote to scroll through Netflix.

“No kidding. Haven’t you heard anything about that kid?” His sister asked, selecting _The Office_. He shook his head and Octavia rolled her eyes. “Of course, how could I assume that you’ve heard about anyone outside our friend group.” Bellamy threw a pillow, causing her to shriek and laugh. “What? You only meet new people if I force them on you.”

“I don’t like new people.” Bellamy huffed, taking the pillow back and readjusting his position.

“Well, he certainly isn’t new. We’ve been in school with Murphy since seventh grade.” She retorted. Bellamy blinked in surprise and Octavia gave him a pointed look. “He got suspended for giving wedgies to eight different kids in one day. Surely you heard about that.” Bellamy shook his head again, abashing Octavia. “He plays his violin at every assembly. Apparently, he’s the best in our school.” He shrugged, knowing that he slept at every assembly. “What about when he pissed on a kid that asked him for water?” Bellamy’s jaw dropped but shook his head once more. “You’re completely oblivious. There’s no way you didn’t hear about the one kid in our grade that went to juvie freshman year.”

Bellamy peeped at that. “No way.” He said as he strained his memory. He couldn’t come up with any recollection of someone going to juvie. “You know what, though? I’m not surprised. I’m fairly certain he was picking up drugs to deliver when I saved him.”

Octavia laughed, making Bellamy look at her puzzledly. “What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Everyone in school knows he works with the reapers. I swear, you wouldn’t notice if someone stole the nose right off your face.” Octavia lunged at him, pinched his nose, and used her thumb to wave in front of him. He lunged back but missed and fell off the couch. They both burst into laughter for a couple of minutes. Octavia finally hit play.

~

A week into school, Octavia poked his bicep with her used fork. He gave her a look and tried to wipe the tomato sauce off his sleeve, only to smear it. She held back a laugh and pointed across the cafeteria. Bellamy followed the direction to see that Murphy was sitting by himself at an eight-seater.

“Talk about a loner.” Raven said, seeing where Octavia had pointed.

“I know right. Just looking at him makes me depressed.” Octavia joked. The two girls began to chuckle. Bellamy observed Murphy and had to agree. The boy was slouched over a tray and was twirling spaghetti with a fork. He was wearing all black and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked increasingly bored and had his hood up in the middle of the day. He also had noticeable dark circles under his eyes. Over-all, Bellamy thought he looked like death incarnate.

“You should go talk to him.” Octavia jested. Bellamy gave her a side glace. She knew that he wouldn’t do that. Despite his size and popularity, he was a shy person. Octavia was the complete opposite, however. After being home-schooled her whole life, the one thing that excited Octavia after Aurora’s death was the idea of public school. Pike became their guardian until Bellamy could fill the shoes and enrolled Octavia, who became a social butterfly immediately.

Bellamy snapped from his thoughts when Murphy stood up. He pushed his hood down, picked up his tray, and walked to the other side of the lunchroom. These actions also got Octavia’s attention as Murphy sat down by Jackson and Miller. The couple looked surprised, but Jackson scooted over to make room for Murphy. After only five seconds, Miller was up and had thrown Murphy to the floor. The entire cafeteria was silenced as they took in the scene.

Bellamy was at the table in moments. “Chill out, dude.” He told Miller, pulling him away from Murphy. The sharp-nosed kid had tomato stains all over him.

“Watch who you call fag.” Miller shoved a finger at Murphy’s shocked face.

“It was a joke.” He responded, more to himself. His eyes were glossed over and all expression was wiped from his face. The silence in the cafeteria seemed to press down on Murphy, who looked like he was shrinking. As if realizing hundreds of eyes were on him, the boy jumped up and walked out. As soon as he was gone, the room filled with whispers, chuckles, and jokes.

“What did he say?” Bellamy asked Miller, who was now sitting back down.

“’What’s up, fags?’ I really thought he was trying to be friends. I should have known with that lonely prick.” Miller said, roping an arm around Jackson. Bellamy’s mouth hardened into a line. As he exited the cafeteria, he could feel Octavia’s eyes following him.

Bellamy went down three hallways and checked two bathrooms before he found Murphy. Or really, before he heard Murphy. Bellamy was going to give up until he noticed some shuffling in one of the bigger stalls.

“Murphy?” Bellamy asked from outside the stall. There was no answer. “You’re either going to open the door or I’m going to kick it in.” The stall door opened after that, revealing an agitated Murphy. Now that Bellamy could see him up close, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes were accompanied by bags. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“What do you want, Blake?” Murphy pressed. Though he was shorter, he held himself up with feigned dignity. Bellamy, however, could see past the act. He saw Murphy’s arms quivering slightly and noticed the faintest of tear stains on his cheeks. “So?” Murphy’s voice broke. He averted his eyes and stepped past Bellamy toward the sinks.

“It’s Bellamy.” He corrected, approaching Murphy. The boy was using paper towels to try and remove the tomato stains from his hoodie. “Maybe try dabbing instead of wiping.”

Murphy gave him a sharp look, much like the one he gave when they first met. “You still haven’t answered my question, idiot.”

“Do you treat everyone who wants to help you like this?” Bellamy found himself crossing his arms. Murphy’s lack of appreciation was bristling him again.

Murphy seemed to notice Bellamy’s change of attitude and held his hands up in mock-surrender. “I don’t want your pity. You can run back to your friends now, they’re probably all waiting for you to tell them where you found me.” The boy went back to scrubbing his hoodie, which was now dripping red-tinted water.

Bellamy pulled a towel from the dispenser and wet it in the sink. He then started scrubbing Murphy’s side. The boy gave him a look before slapping his hand away.

“What the hell do you want?” He demanded, his face contorting with anger. Bellamy had never seen Murphy’s nose so pointed and his cheekbones so sharp. The boy looked like a hungry raccoon.

“Maybe I want to be friends.” Bellamy tried. Murphy’s face dropped and he stared at Bellamy. Neither boy seemed convinced. After a few seconds, he forced a laugh and began scrubbing again.

“Nobody wants to be my friend unless they want something. Whatever you want, I’m not doing it.” Murphy said, turning to the mirror. That glossed expression from the cafeteria reappeared on his face.

“How can I prove it?” Bellamy inquired, feeling his cheeks heat. Talking about friendship was far out of his comfort zone, but he wanted to prove that not everyone was out to get the boy. Even if it meant becoming friends with someone he didn’t know.

Murphy looked at him through the mirror before giving an empty smirk. “Come to my performance next Friday. No one my age ever shows up, only old ass citizens.” Murphy rolled his eyes and refocused on cleaning. He didn’t think Bellamy would show up.

So, Bellamy did. He noticed that he was over-dressed as soon as he entered the school. Everyone else was dressed more casually while Bellamy was in a suit. When Murphy said performance, Bellamy had thought it would be some high-end event. Abashed, he took the fault. He should have known it wasn’t formal since the performance was in the school auditorium.

He took his seat on the far right and had to let elderly citizens in and out of the row multiple times. Murphy didn’t lie when he said only senior citizens would come. Bellamy was debating on moving to a less popular row when the main lights turned off and a spotlight turned on.

Murphy walked onto the stage with the most posh Bellamy had ever seen him with. He was wearing a black vest with a white shirt that had a bowtie in its collar. His leather shoes were the only things making a sound as he approached the center. When he got there, three others filed on to the stage similarly. Bellamy was surprised to see that one of them was Clarke. Her golden hair was down and she wore a flowing, black dress.

One of the three stepped forward and tapped the microphone. She was a tall, slender woman crowned with straight, black hair. “Welcome! Many of you know me as Arkadia’s orchestra director. However, tonight, I will be performing with my students as Ontari Azgetta. Thank you all for attending our chamber performance. Your continued support has made this program and many others possible. The students performing today are Johnathan Murphy, Clarke Griffin, and Monty Green. These individuals have worked outside of our orchestra program to put a piece together for your entertainment. I hope you will enjoy the fruit of their labors as much as I have through directing them.”

The audience, including Bellamy, gave applause. Clarke and Monty looked at each other reassuringly while Murphy stood there friendless. Bellamy felt compelled to go on stage and support Murphy; however, Miss Azgetta beat him to it. She squeezed his shoulder and beamed, earning one of Murphy’s smirks. Once the applause died down, the director spoke again.

“We will be performing _Adagio for Strings_, composed by Samuel Barber.” She stepped back into a semi-circle that the others had formed. With a nod, the three violinists rose their instruments to their shoulders and readied their bows in one swift motion. Monty took a seat behind his cello and readied his bow as well.

He didn’t realize they had started until the notes changed. The four musicians had entered that softly. Bellamy didn’t consider himself to be an active listener, but he could describe the music as a yearning. The notes seemed to beg his ears for something as they built upon each other.

Though the piece was slow, Bellamy could see that the musicians were concentrating intensely. Murphy’s eyes were closed gently as his fingers moved in quick motions. Bellamy could see a glint of sweat on the boy’s forehead. He didn’t know if it was from being under a spotlight or if it was coming from Murphy’s intensity.

When the piece sped up, the musicians began moving their bows in unison. The chords told Bellamy of a desperate sadness, a clawing one. The final chord ended with a brief silence. He was about to clap but realized it wasn’t over. The four began playing again. The piece sounded the way it started, yet different. Bellamy was hunched over his knees as he strained himself closer to the music. He could feel warm bubbles along his arms and wet spots beneath them.

When the music ended, there was quiet. The violinists lowered their instruments and Miss Azgetta curtsied, motioning the others to do the same. The crowd stood up with a roaring applause, and Bellamy followed. He was astounded by the quality of the performance and by seeing Clarke in orchestra. His grin split his face as he watched the students bow and move to the side of the stage. The director gave a final wave, spurring the audience into either exiting or staying to speak.

Bellamy caught Clarke as she was leaving. “How come you never mentioned your mad skills, Griffin?” Bellamy huffed when he intercepted her.

Clarke’s gasp turned into a smile as she took Bellamy in for a hug. “How come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“Well, surprise, I didn’t come for you. And you’ve never mentioned that you are in orchestra!” Bellamy playfully punched her. She feigned surprise and hit him back.

“Who did you come for, then?”

Bellamy nodded towards Murphy, who was chatting with an older woman. Clarke looked at him questioningly. “Really?”

“Yeah, I have something to prove.” Bellamy shrugged. Clarke rose her eyebrows but made no further comment.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday, then.” They hugged goodbye and Clarke left the auditorium. Bellamy turned to see that Murphy was exiting backstage; so, like any sensible person, he followed him.

Murphy was outside the orchestra room putting his violin in its case. Bellamy lightly kicked Murphy’s backside, causing the boy to jump up in surprise. Murphy’s eyes were wide when they found his. Bellamy had a tranquil smile as he took in Murphy’s reaction to realizing that he came.

“I would say that I’m not surprised, but I kind of am.” Murphy gibed, a tentative smirk appearing on his face.

“So, can we be friends now?” Bellamy asked with mocked endearment. Murphy lulled his head back with a smile.

“I can’t believe you came here just to prove me wrong.”

“Guess you don’t know me yet.” Bellamy laughed.

“Why do you even want to be my friend? Haven’t you heard all the reasons why people hate me?” Murphy snarked as they entered the orchestra room. He was using a light tone, but Bellamy could detect a hint of insecurity in it.

“I think I heard something about you being a wedgie maniac.” Bellamy responded.

Murphy burst into laughter. “Ah, those were the days. The entire seventh grade feared me. I was – hey!” He suddenly exclaimed as Bellamy tugged his underwear up from his slacks.

“Bikini briefs?” Bellamy couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. Murphy put his violin down and stuffed his underwear back into his pants.

“Not everyone finds boxers comfortable, Blake.” Murphy bantered. He spread his legs and readied himself. “You do realize you’ve started a war, right?”

“Wait, let’s not be hasty-” Bellamy tried to say before Murphy tackled him. The shorter boy couldn’t knock Bellamy over, so instead used his long arms to reach around Bellamy’s waist. This, however, left Murphy’s backside exposed. As Murphy was trying to pull Bellamy’s dress shirt out, Bellamy grabbed Murphy’s waistband again. This time when he pulled, Murphy was lifted off the ground by his briefs and could only flail his legs in response.

“I yield!” Murphy squalled. Even in his situation, he was laughing. Bellamy let him go and the two straightened their outfits while laughing like schoolboys. “What’s with the suit anyways?” Murphy asked after picking up his violin case.

“I thought this was supposed to be a fancy event.” Bellamy admitted, feeling his cheeks flush at the thought of how ridiculous he probably looked. Murphy was unsuccessfully trying to stifle a laugh.

“We live in Arkadia, there’s only two events here that require dress attire.” Murphy retorted, shaking his head at Bellamy.

“It’s best not to anger me, Murphy. You’ve already seen what I can do.” Bellamy cracked his knuckles jokingly. Murphy narrowed his eyes.

“You got lucky. If you weren’t wearing a literal suit, your cheeks would be mine.” They both erupted into laughter.

Miss Azgetta walked into the room and took in the scene. “I don’t want to know.” She said, opening the door to her office. “Could I have a quick word with you, John?”

“Yeah, of course.” The boy said, setting his case down and scratching his nose. He followed the director into her office and closed the door. Bellamy sat himself on a table and waited ten minutes till Murphy came back out. The boy grabbed his case and led Bellamy out of the building.

“What was that about?” Bellamy asked once they began their trek to the complex, an agreement to walk together silently passing between them.

“Oh, Miss Azgetta? She was just showing me a way to better my posture.” He answered. The rest of the walk was in comfortable silence.

When they arrived, Murphy started to his first-floor apartment. Bellamy stopped him by reaching into his back pocket for his phone. The action made Murphy jump and turn.

“What’s wrong, thought I was going for your underwear?” Bellamy laughed.

“What are you doing?” Murphy asked after relaxing.

“Exchanging numbers so that you can text me when your next performance is.” Bellamy said, handing the boy back his phone. Murphy gazed at Bellamy before adopting a smirk.

“I guess my playing got you hooked, huh?” Murphy jested.

“Nah, I just want to know where and when to take a good nap.” Bellamy joked, earning a light punch from Murphy.

“I’ll text you later, Blake.” Murphy said as he walked to his apartment.

“It’s Bellamy.” He called after the boy.

~

After a month, Bellamy finally got a text. They hadn’t been avoiding each other, they just didn’t have a lot of opportunities to see one another. Murphy had stopped eating in the cafeteria, even when Bellamy told him that they could sit together. Murphy felt like all of Bellamy’s friends hated him (probably because of his past actions), so he hadn’t felt comfortable with the invitation. They didn’t have any classes together and they both had things to do after school. Bellamy had his internship with the fire department while Murphy stayed in the orchestra room after school for hours. Bellamy had tried hanging out with Murphy at later hours, but Murphy never seemed to be home at night. Bellamy didn’t like to assume, but he had strong suspicions that Murphy spent his nights with the reapers.

Bellamy had just finished pole training when he checked his phone.

**Murphy: **_performance @ 9, u should come _(delivered 8:15 p.m.)

**Bellamy: **_srsly _(delivered 9:07 p.m.)

Bellamy waved at the crew as he rushed out. The school was only a block away, so he sprinted. He knew that he looked like a madman as he rushed into the building, sweaty and unkept. Patrons in the lobby made faces at him, but he didn’t care. He quietly entered the auditorium and was met by the full orchestra playing.

He didn’t register what they were playing as he spilled into a chair, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible. The orchestra ended the piece and the audience began applauding. Bellamy leaned back as Miss Azgetta walked up to the microphone. She was in a dark pantsuit and was wearing what looked to be four-inch heels.

“Up next is an independently developed piece. The two students performing this have been working hard for over a month now!” She exclaimed, pausing for the audience’s approval. After a few moments, she continued. “I would also like to mention that these two students are the only ones who signed up for All-District auditions, which are still open.” Miss Azgetta turned towards the orchestra and received laughter from students and audience alike. “Without further-a-do, I present to you Jonathan Murphy and Clarke Griffin, who will be playing _La Partida_, a popular Venezuelan waltz.”

The audience cheered as the two violinists stood and made for the front of the stage. Bellamy smiled to himself as he watched Clarke and Murphy eye each other, presumably finding a tempo. After a long moment in silence, the two musicians readied their instruments in that spectacular motion that amazed Bellamy. They immediately began playing, syncing with each other perfectly.

_La Partida_ was completely different from the last performance Bellamy witnessed. This one was fast and desperate when compared to _Adagio_. He found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off Murphy and Clarke. The two violinists were locked on one another. Their bows were bobbing up and down as the tempo greatly increased after each theme. Two minutes in and Bellamy could see Murphy bouncing slightly. Clarke stayed composed, but he could see sweat reflecting off her face. When the tempo was impossibly fast, Bellamy thought their bows would fly out of their hands.

They ended the piece with a unison riff. The audience was up and clapping before the two could bow. They made their way back to their seats as Miss Azgetta hurried to the microphone. Clarke was met with high-fives and whispered congratulations by her peers while Murphy silently took his seat. Bellamy pursed his lips. He would be the one to congratulate Murphy.

The rest of the concert was pleasant. There were two full-ensemble pieces after the duet, and Bellamy sat through them. After Miss Azgetta delivered the closing speech, the audience got up and began filing out. Since Bellamy was in the back, he was able to slip out before the crowd blocked the way.

He headed around the auditorium to the orchestra room. Clarke spotted him and came over.

“So, what did you think?” She asked, taking him in for a hug and then looking at him expectantly.

“It was amazing. I’ve never been one for music, but you guys might have hooked me.” He replied with a grin. Clarke smiled at him and leaned in.

“The one you came for is in there avoiding everyone else.” She jerked her head at the orchestra room’s doors. Bellamy gave her a knowing smile and she winked at him. He furrowed his eyebrows as he entered the room, Clarke whistling behind him.

“There’s the party boy.” Bellamy said as he saw Murphy adjusting the strings on his violin. The boy looked up and smiled when he recognized Bellamy. His smile turned into a shocked gape and he began laughing. “What’s so funny?” Bellamy asked as he approached.

“What are you wearing?” Murphy nearly howled. Tears were collecting in his eyes as he laughed.

Bellamy looked down and realized he was still in his bunker gear from training. Maybe that’s why everyone was giving him looks when he ran in.

“Hey, it’s not my fault. You’re the one who told me about this performance an hour beforehand.” Bellamy stated as he sat in the chair next to Murphy.

“What even is it?” Murphy asked, tugging at Bellamy’s collar.

“Bunker gear. Highly fire resistant. And not to mention, bad ass.” He replied, grabbing Murphy’s wrist. Murphy looked from Bellamy to his hand, and back again. Bellamy quickly licked Murphy’s hand and laughed when the boy snatched it back and made a noise of disgust.

“Disgusting! You don’t know where my hand’s been.” He said, giving Bellamy a judging look before laughing at larger boy’s goofy grin.

“Wanna head home?” Bellamy asked, nudging Murphy’s knee. Murphy put his violin in its case.

“Not yet, I have to wait.” He responded. Bellamy nodded and the two joked with each other as orchestra students trickled into the room. After twenty minutes, most students had left, and Miss Azgetta walked in. Murphy got up and followed her to her office rather quickly. Bellamy got up as well and walked to the exit to wait.

Murphy emerged from the office ten minutes later and joined Bellamy.

“How come she has you in her office after every performance?” Bellamy asked when they got on the sidewalk.

“She always has pointers for me so that I can improve.” Murphy responded without a hitch. Bellamy quirked an eyebrow.

“How come it’s only you, though?” He pressed. Miss Azgetta was starting to worry him with how touchy she was getting with her student. Bellamy saw the director hug Murphy tightly before they left.

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m the only one with potential?” Murphy said with his smirk. Bellamy elbowed him and smiled as well, forgetting about the orchestra director.

When they got to the stairs of the complex, Bellamy grabbed Murphy arm before the boy could keep walking. Murphy turned with a confused look.

“Want to hang at my place tonight?” Bellamy asked carefully. He usually didn’t invite friends over, but he had been wanting to have fun with Murphy for a few weeks now. Though he could feel his face heating up, he gave Murphy a hopeful smile.

“Why the hell not? Let me put my stuff up and change. I’ll come up when I’m ready. What’s your apartment number?” Murphy asked easily.

“Two-thirteen. I’ll go start the popcorn.”

“Can’t wait.” Murphy drawled, turning towards his apartment. Bellamy ran up the stairs.

After throwing a large bag of popcorn in the microwave, he hurried to the apartment’s one bathroom and hopped in the shower. He scrubbed the sweat and dirt from his body and stepped out, realizing he didn’t grab any clothes before getting in. Bellamy did a quick dry-off and wrapped a towel around himself. When he opened the door, Murphy was on the couch eating popcorn.

“I let him in.” Octavia giggled from the miniature kitchen, hiding a smile behind her hand.

“Gee, thanks.” Bellamy glared, causing Octavia to snort with laughter.

“I don’t see any problems. All I see is a snack.” Murphy remarked, popping a kernel in his mouth. Bellamy made a mortified noise, earning a vulgar wink from the boy. Bellamy gave up with a roll of his eyes and went to his room.

A few minutes later, he was changed into comfortable pajama bottoms and a tee. He sat by Murphy and moved the popcorn bowl in between them.

“Where did Octavia go?” Bellamy asked.

“She ran off with some guy named Lincoln. She told me not to tell you until she was far away.” Murphy chuckled. Bellamy opened and closed his mouth.

“I swear, public school is a poison when it comes to her. Anyhow, what do you want to watch?” Bellamy questioned after turning the television on and launching Netflix.

“You guys have Netflix?” Murphy asked with badly concealed awe. Bellamy could see the boy’s mind churning behind his deep eyes. He simply handed the remote to Murphy, who took it gingerly as if it would break.

“What’s wrong, never seen Netflix?” Bellamy asked with an upwards curl of his lips.

“I’ve always wanted it.” Murphy whispered. Bellamy dropped his smile and tossed an arm behind the boy.

“Your choice, then.” Bellamy affirmed. Murphy spent twenty minutes browsing through the program. He would ask Bellamy if he had seen the shows and what he thought of them. Bellamy answered truthfully, critiquing the ones he thought were bad and warning Murphy about the ones that had been canceled. Murphy’s eyes lit up when he found the Spanish section.

“This one.” Murphy said with a wide grin. Bellamy roused Murphy’s hair and reclined his side of the couch. _Gran Hotel_ began playing and the two boys watched. Though the show was more thrilling than Bellamy had thought, he was fighting the urge to sleep by the fourth episode. However, the sudden weight of Murphy’s head snapped him out of his drowsiness.

Bellamy paused the show carefully, trying not to disturb Murphy. He reached behind the couch and got the spare blanket. When the cover was draped over the two of them, he relaxed and drifted to sleep.

~

For two weeks, the boys had hung out much like that night. They found moments between his internship and Murphy’s practice. The third time they hung out, Bellamy confronted Murphy about the reapers.

The boy had tensed up when asked, but responded honestly. He told Bellamy that he was one of the reapers’ drug runners, however, he had finally gotten out of the business. Bellamy nodded and invited Murphy over that night, ironing out any apprehensions his question might have brought up.

Bellamy could tell that Murphy was stressing about his All-district audition. The boy was in the orchestra room for hours every day; he even had to get a string replaced after breaking it. So, that afternoon, Bellamy went to Walmart and purchased some aloe body lotion.

When Murphy entered the Blake’s apartment (he had a key), Bellamy was sitting on the couch with a pillow by his feet and the lotion on his hands.

“What’s this?” Murphy asked suspiciously, stepping in and shutting the door.

“You need to de-stress. Come sit down.” Bellamy commanded by tapping the pillow with his foot. Murphy obeyed and situated himself between Bellamy’s knees. “Shirt off.” Bellamy commanded.

“Do you do this with all your friends, Blake?” Murphy asked as he pulled his shirt off. Bellamy snorted in response and began kneading the boy’s shoulders, which were tense and boney. After seven minutes, Bellamy re-applied the lotion and began working the upper back. Murphy released a breath and leaned into the larger boy’s touch. “Where did you learn this?” Murphy sighed out, lulling his head back to look at Bellamy.

“I did this for my mom every Sunday.” He responded with a sad smile. Murphy looked regretful for asking and scratched his nose awkwardly. “I’m just happy I found someone to do it with again. Octavia hates massages.” Bellamy laughed, uplifting the fallen mood.

The next day, Bellamy found himself outside a different school’s classroom. He and Murphy were at All-district auditions and Murphy wouldn’t stop shaking. He had visible pit stains on his dress shirt.

“You’re going to do great.” Bellamy assured, taking Murphy by the shoulders. The other boy gave a small nod but didn’t relax. Their attention was diverted when Clarke stepped out of the classroom. She closed the door behind her and gave Murphy a meaningful look.

“Good luck.” She said quietly. As she rounded the corner, Miss Azgetta appeared.

“Don’t forget your posture, John.” She said, embracing him. Murphy hugged her back and deflated his tension. Bellamy coughed and turned around, not wanting to overstep by asking the teacher why she was touching a student like that. As if noticing Bellamy for the first time, Miss Azgetta pulled away and gave Murphy a thumbs-up. The boy grabbed his violin from Bellamy and entered the classroom.

By the time Murphy stepped out, Miss Azgetta had left to talk to her other students. Bellamy captured Murphy’s shoulders and cracked a grin.

“How was it?”

“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. And I went to juvie.” Murphy let out an anxious laugh. Bellamy chuckled and squeezed the boy’s shoulder before releasing him. Murphy returned his violin to its case and the two headed to the bus.

~

“I made it!” Murphy delighted after busting the Blake’s door open. Bellamy quickly paused the television and stood up, beaming. He jumped at Murphy and draped him over his shoulder. He spun around as the boy jeered, slapping at Bellamy’s back playfully.

“What did you do?” Octavia asked with an interested smile. She probably thought the boys were horse-playing again.

Bellamy set Murphy down. “I got into All-District.” The boy said while pulling his hoodie down, which had ridden up when Bellamy grabbed him.

“Congrats.” Octavia nodded. Murphy looked sheepish from the praise but snapped a smirk anyway.

“I have to go get something.” Bellamy interposed, rushing to his room without an answer. He returned with a poorly wrapped package and handed it to Murphy.

“What’s this?” The violinist asked, looking questioningly at Bellamy.

“It’s a congratulations.” Bellamy said gently, knowing how Murphy felt about gifts. He had anticipated Murphy’s success and had to buy something to celebrate. When Murphy gave him a look, Bellamy rolled his eyes and pressed the package into the boy’s chest.

Murphy grudgingly ripped it open to reveal a large, maroon sweater. He held it up to read it and gave Bellamy a pointed look. “Ha ha, how funny.” He said sarcastically.

Bellamy snickered as he looked at the sweater. It had a violin with the words ‘_I’m high strung!_’ written across it. He tackled Murphy to the couch and wrestled with him until the boy was shouting uncle. When Murphy stopped resisting, Bellamy said in his ear, “I’m proud of you.”

Murphy turned his head and smirked. “I’m proud of me too.”

“I think I’m going to head out. Make sure you boys use a condom.” Octavia joked as she left the room. Bellamy squawked in her direction and was met with laughter. He released Murphy and the two watched _Gran Hotel_ the rest of the night.

~

“Julio and Andreas would be so hot.” Murphy snarked in Bellamy’s ear. He opened his eyes to look at Murphy and was met with a cheeky grin. “What? I know you agree.”

“Not exactly the image I want to picture as I sleep.” Bellamy retorted. Murphy rolled his eyes and nudged Bellamy, nearly pushing him out of their shared bus seat.

The boys, Clarke, Monty, and Miss Azgetta were on a bus trip to Polis, the district the performance was going to be held. Bellamy could ride with the orchestra since only three students made it and there was a whole bus.

“You’re obviously not going to leave me alone, so I guess I have to entertain you.” Bellamy said, pulling out his phone. Murphy perked up and leaned closer as Bellamy opened Tik Tok.

“What’s that?” Murphy asked.

“It’s basically Vine two.” He answered. Bellamy went to his saved videos and pulled up a clip of someone acting like Moto Moto from _Madagascar 2_. Murphy chortled, attracting the attention of Clarke. Bellamy shrugged at her and she put her ear buds in with a look.

“What are you boys laughing at?” Miss Azgetta asked languidly as she moved to the seat in front of them. Bellamy eyed her as he turned his phone off.

“Some app called Tik Tok.” Murphy answered politely.

“Interesting. Well, how about you come sit with me and we can discuss technique.” The teacher said more than asked. Her smile was pulled over her teeth.

“Don’t you think that will stress him out?” Bellamy asked firmly, not moving to let Murphy out.

She faced Bellamy and pursed her lips. “I think I know what’s best for my students.”

“Actually, I have a technique question.” Clarke cut in. Her ear buds were out, and she looked knowingly at Bellamy before shifting her eyes to the director.

Miss Azgetta didn’t look happy but moved quietly to Clarke’s seat. The two began chatting so Bellamy took some earbuds from his pocket. He handed one to Murphy and put the other in his ear.

Ten hours later, Bellamy was sitting at the top of some bleachers at Polis High. Murphy, Clarke, and Monty had spent the entire day preparing the music with the guest conductor. Bellamy couldn’t be in the gym during the practice, so he explored the county. He even got to talk to the firefighter’s chief, who knew some guys from Arkadia’s department.

Now the concert was finally ready to be performed. All the musicians were wearing black and looked tired. Murphy peculiarly looked worn with his hair wild and face depleted. Bellamy took a mental note to let Murphy use him as a pillow on their way back.

He slept through most of the concert. He would awaken for a few seconds when the audience clapped but would quickly fall into slumber again. The pieces were long and dragging, so Bellamy didn’t feel bad when he couldn’t stay awake.

The four-hour ride back was uneventful. Murphy had his full weight on Bellamy and was snoring softly. Bellamy and Clarke had talked in the beginning of the ride. Clarke shared that she met a girl named Lexa and was excited to link up. Now, however, all the students were sleeping. Miss Azgetta didn’t bother the two for the entire ride.

When they got back to Arcadia, everyone exited the bus sluggishly. Bellamy had to shake Murphy awake two times before he got up. Since all the students were juniors, Clarke and Monty immediately drove home. Bellamy stifled at yawn and propped the door open. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. You might have to carry me if I collapse, though.” Murphy replied tiredly, failing to stifle his own yawn.

“Wait, John! Can I speak with you?” Miss Azgetta injected. She was standing in the doorway of her office with a dark red dress wrapped along her. Murphy nodded stiffly and turned. Before he could start off, Bellamy grabbed his bicep.

“Alone.” She stressed, giving Bellamy a glance before locking on Murphy. Her eyes had a glint in them.

“Just go without me.” Murphy said, pulling his arm back.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked. He was alert now. The artificial lights casted everything in a static tint and the air conditioner’s hum was the only sound to be heard. Murphy furrowed his brows and took a step back, toward the teacher.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll catch up with you if you’re that desperate for my company.” Murphy replied, trying to humor the conversation. Bellamy didn’t laugh. Instead, he fiddled with his clammy hands and tucked his shoulders back.

“Mister Blake, you shouldn’t even be in the school this late.” Miss Azgetta imposed. Her brown opals were now trained on him, daring him to disobey. Bellamy’s throat was dry, and he felt every muscle in him strain. He glanced at Murphy, who simply waved and began towards the teacher.

Bellamy had no choice but to leave. He forced his stiff legs to take him to the street. When he began walking, he couldn’t shake the sound of her office door locking from his head.

~

Murphy wasn’t at school Monday.

Bellamy thought that maybe the boy was mad at him for acting clingy, and that’s why he hadn’t seen him all weekend. But when he asked Emori about his whereabouts, she told him that she hadn’t seen Murphy either. Bellamy knew that Murphy and Emori hung out every weekend.

So, he went to Murphy’s apartment immediately after school. He was flushed from hurrying and his entire body was covered in a layer of sweat. He took a moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

When there was no answer, he knocked harder. Met with silence, Bellamy moved his ear to the door to try and hear if Murphy was home.

“Murphy?” Bellamy tried. He dry-swallowed and took a step back. “You might be mad, but I need to check on you.” Bellamy said before kicking the thin door in. It banged on the closed latch every apartment had.

Murphy began shrieking from the other side of the apartment.

“No! No, no, no. Stop it!” He shrilled, lobbing random items at the door. Bellamy had to recover from his worry to dodge a thrown lamp, which shattered on the wall with a piercing sound.

“Murphy, it’s me. Calm down.” Bellamy attempted, but Murphy screamed over him. “What’s wrong?” He rose his voice to ask.

After some time, Bellamy heard shuffling as Murphy came to the door. The boy’s eyes were wide and framed with dark bags. His hair was sticking up in all directions and he was still in his concert outfit. He had a musty odor that wafted out of the apartment. Bellamy tried to not be frightened by the way Murphy’s beady eyes bore into his.

“Bellamy?” He uttered. Finally registering who it was, Murphy’s body shrunk from tension release. Bellamy wanted nothing more than to embrace his friend, but the door prevented him from doing so.

“Can I come in?” He asked instead. Murphy slunk back and shook his head.

“I’m fine.” He said, looking past Bellamy and scratching his nose.

Bellamy saw that he clearly wasn’t fine and was about to say so before the door shut. After a minute, he could hear shaky breaths from the back of the apartment.

Bellamy knew Murphy’s condition had something to do with the orchestra teacher. The following morning, he marched himself into her office and slammed the door shut.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Miss Azgetta demanded over some papers in her hands.

“What the hell did you do to Murphy?” Bellamy barked. The teacher’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in indignation.

“You will not speak to me in that manner.”

“You think this is a game? _What the hell did you do_?”

“We enjoyed each other’s company.” She answered curtly after dropping her papers in shock. Bellamy was seething in rage. He could feel a burning sensation inside him, willing him to choke the woman out.

He straightened up and took a deep breath. He knew that hurting the teacher wouldn’t help the situation. “You will pay for that.” Was all Bellamy said before storming away. The students in the orchestra room peered at him as he exited.

Bellamy found Monty in the library, typing on a computer. “Monty, I need your help.” He said, forcing eye contact in attempt to deliver the importance of the situation. Monty faced Bellamy, dropping whatever he was working on.

“What is it?”

“Can you do your hacking-thing and get dirt on Ontari Azgetta?”

“My director?” Monty asked in surprise. Bellamy nodded firmly. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, not wanting Monty to be confused by his anger.

“Could you give me any idea what you’re looking for?” Monty asked, turning back to the computer.

“Child predation.”

Monty glanced at Bellamy, making sure he was serious. He began typing and continued to work through the first period bell. Neither boys got up to leave.

“Does this have something to do with Murphy?” Monty suddenly asked. Bellamy leaned towards the screen and saw a video clip with Murphy on the thumbnail.

“What is that?” Bellamy asked stiffly.

“I found it on her P.C.’s hard drive, which she stupidly plugged into the school’s router.”

Bellamy grabbed his earbuds and plugged them in. “Press play.” He commanded.

_Murphy was slouching in the chair across from Miss Azgetta. His head was rolling back and forth while she applied a crimson lipstick that matched her dress._

_“Are you enjoying that drink?” She asked after popping her lips. Murphy made a disgruntled noise, not even looking in her direction. “It’s okay, I’m going to make it all better.” She stood up, walked around the desk, and mounted him._

_Murphy tried to push her off but was too weak to do so. She began forcing her lips on his neck and jaw._

_“What are you doing…?” Murphy slurred._

_“Just relax, I know you want it.” She ripped his shirt open and rubbed her hands along his sides._

_“No, no,” Murphy tried to push her off again, but was met with a harsh slap. His eyes snapped open and he slowly raised his hand to his cheek. “I-… I’m gay.” He slurred, making eye contact with her. He was trying to beg._

_“I don’t believe you, and neither does your friend.” She responded, grabbing his crouch and squeezing._

_Murphy made a noise of pain and bucked. Ontari laughed as she undid his belt buckle._

_“Bellamy.” Murphy tried to project, but it came out as a croak. He tried again and was covered by his teacher’s laughter._

Bellamy pulled his earbuds out and looked away from the screen. His face was hard, and his anger had run dry. Now he felt a hollowed vengeance.

“Put it on a flash drive.” Bellamy ordered. Monty did so with a shocked expression. He hadn’t expected this like Bellamy had.

By the time Bellamy arrived at the police station, he was sweating buckets and coughing violently. However, he didn’t stop. He went to the front desk and demanded for Sergeant Pike.

“I’m sorry sir, you can’t just ask- “

“I’m not asking. Go get him.” Bellamy shouted. All the officers in the building turned to him. A few even had hands on their glocks.

“Who’s doing all this shouting in my building?” Pike boomed, coming around the corner. When he spotted Bellamy in a pool of sweat, his face dropped. “Son, What’s wrong?”

Bellamy held the flash drive up.

~

The arrest was clean. Pike himself went to the school and cuffed Ontari during second period. She didn’t resist and cooperated all the way to the squad car. When she saw Bellamy looking at her with disgust, she sneered but didn’t say a word.

Now he was outside of Murphy’s door, knocking gently. It took twenty minutes for Murphy to answer, and when he did, he was still wearing his cheap vest and grayed slacks.

“She was arrested.” Bellamy stated. Murphy’s face was blank. He closed the door, undid the latch, and reopened it. As Bellamy stepped in, Murphy ambled to a mattress on the floor. It was the only piece of furniture in the apartment.

Bellamy closed the door and stood in the corner, not sure if it was okay to approach Murphy. This was the first time the boy had let him into his home and Bellamy didn’t want to set him off. As if sensing this, Murphy glanced over and patted the mattress, signaling for him to come over.

The two boys sat in silence. Murphy was lying on his back while Bellamy sat on the edge of the lumpy mattress. Eventually, Bellamy shifted to lie down with the boy, who in turn curled into Bellamy’s side. Bellamy readjusted to accommodate him and wrapped a timid arm around Murphy’s shoulder, unsure if the action was welcomed.

“I’m not porcelain.” Murphy uttered.

“What?” Bellamy asked, not registering the comment.

“You’re acting like I’m going to break.”

“I wasn’t sure… I ‒ I just want you to be okay.” Bellamy sighed, wrapping his other arm around the boy.

Murphy peered up at him. His eyes were dry, noticeably different from the day before. “Do you know why she was arrested?”

Bellamy tried to swallow before answering. “Yeah.”

“How?”

“She made a video.” When he heard Bellamy’s words, he stiffened.

“Did you watch it?” He asked in a hollowed voice.

“Only the first minute.” Bellamy said in the gentlest tone he could manage. He knew Murphy was upset.

As predicted, the boy pulled away. “Then you know.” He stated simply.

“What she did to you? Yeah, I know. I had to make sure the video was incriminating before I went to the police.”

“You know I’m gay.” He injected, refusing to meet Bellamy’s eyes.

_So that’s what’s bothering him_, Bellamy thought. He took Murphy by the waist and pulled him close. He then enclosed around the boy’s chest and pressed into him, effectively spooning the other. And to reassure Murphy, he kissed the top of his head. “And? You think I didn’t know?” Bellamy asked in a raised tone.

“There’s no way you knew.” Murphy whispered, looking down at his chest.

“You wear eyeliner to every performance.” Bellamy jested, trying to humor the mood.

Murphy began to shake. Bellamy didn’t realize the boy was dry sobbing until he heard the hiccups of air.

“It’s going to be okay.” Bellamy affirmed, stroking Murphy’s hair the way his mom would do when he cried. After a few minutes, Murphy dried up. The boys stayed like that in the dark, simply laying together.

Until Octavia busted in, flooding the room with light.

“There you are, Bell. Did you hear about the orchestra teacher?”

Bellamy tried to hold onto Murphy, but the boy was possessed with terror. He flew out of Bellamy’s grasp and into the small bathroom, shoving the door closed behind him.

“What’s wrong with him?” Octavia asked, unimpressed.

“You need to leave.” Bellamy said pointedly as he stood up.

“Why, what did I do?” She asked with a hint of whine.

“You’re the last person he needs to see right now. You look exactly like that Ontari bitch.”

Octavia’s face shifted from confused to shocked when she realized. “So, he’s the mystery student everyone’s talking about?”

Bellamy scoffed as he guided Octavia out of the doorway. “Just stay quiet and I’ll fill you in later.” He said, closing the door and walking to the bathroom.

“She’s gone, you can come out if you want.” Bellamy said to the door.

“I need to be alone.” Murphy’s voice came out muffled. Bellamy stood outside the door for a minute before he knocked again. “Listen, I know you want to help, but I need to put myself back together. I don’t need charity right now.” Murphy’s words bit at Bellamy. With a fallen spirit, he exited the apartment.

~

Bellamy visited Murphy every day the following week. Some days, Murphy would sit and conversate, inquiring how school went and jokingly asking if Bellamy had put out any fires. Other days, the two would remain in a comfortable silence. The worst days were when Murphy didn’t want Bellamy’s company, and verbally attacked him to push him away.

However, Bellamy knew that Murphy was trying to heal in his own way. He never took Murphy’s hurtful outburst to heart. When they happened, he simply got up and left, only to return the following day.

Sunday night, Murphy told Bellamy he wanted to go back to school. Bellamy smiled and embraced him, even though he was worried. He knew that Murphy was the school’s choice topic of gossip right now. He wouldn’t stop Murphy from trying to move on, though.

So, Bellamy received permission from Principal Jaha to shadow Murphy’s classes for the day. Students who whispered about Murphy were quickly silenced by Bellamy’s glare. He could tell Murphy was uncomfortable by his hovering, but the boy never brought it up.

After a month, Murphy finally picked his violin up. For a few days, he would hold it for a few minutes and then return it to its case. On day eight, he was playing again. Bellamy could tell that Murphy was a bit rusty, so he gave words of encouragement.

Now, Bellamy had to wait outside the orchestra room nearly every day. Once Murphy got back into playing, he wouldn’t slow down. Clarke reached out to him when they found out they would be going to All-State. They practiced together now, and even began to talk like friends. Bellamy couldn’t help but feel satisfied now that two of his favorite people were growing closer.

“What are you smiling about?” Murphy teased as he stepped outside of the orchestra room. Bellamy’s grin widened and he took Murphy by the shoulders. They argued on who had the more annoying smile on the way to the apartment complex.

The car ride back from All-State was stimulating. Murphy and Clarke wouldn’t stop talking about how life-changing the experience was. Bellamy and Misses Griffin had to plead for them to shut up after an hour of gibberish. Despite that, however, Bellamy’s grin was as wide as it’s ever been. Murphy’s eyes were ablaze with a fire Bellamy hadn’t seen since the boy played _La Partida_.

And with that fire, Murphy kissed him. Bellamy had been talking about how adorable Murphy looked in his gifted sweater when he felt excited lips crash into his own. Murphy quickly pulled away and glanced at Bellamy nervously, as if he wasn’t expecting to do what he just did.

Bellamy adorned a Murphy-like smirk and pulled the boy to him, enveloping his mouth and pushing his tongue in. Murphy melted into his chest and sounded a moan.

“Looks like Octavia owes me ten bucks.” Clarke commented. Bellamy threw a candy wrapper at her and went back to kissing his violinist.

That night, Murphy was laying between Bellamy’s legs and onto his chest. The lights were off, and the television was streaming _Gran Hotel_’s final episode. Bellamy wrapped his arms around Murphy’s chest possessively and burrowed his chin in the crook of the smaller boy’s neck. This was as affectionate Bellamy has gotten to be with the boy in a long time.

“I think I like you, Blake.” Murphy breathed out, grabbing Bellamy’s legs and wrapping them around his own torso. He was pressing into Bellamy’s hips with his lower back.

“It’s Bellamy.” He said, biting Murphy’s earlobe and laughing when the other boy yelped.

“Can you go get the tissues?” Murphy asked him after rubbing his ear. “You know what _Gran Hotel_ does to me.”

Bellamy disentangled himself from the boy and stood up. He was stretching his joints out when a hand latched itself onto his waistband. Before Bellamy could escape, his underwear shot upwards.

Murphy was a laughing fit when Bellamy turned and jumped on him. The larger boy flipped him over and grabbed his bikini briefs with both hands. “You’re gonna regret that.” Bellamy exhaled with a wicked smile.

“I know.” Was all Murphy could say before his briefs turned into a high-waisted thong. The neighbors made a noise complaint the following morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your opinion on my work. I hope enjoyed it, and if you didn't (or did but still have critiques), I encourage you to say why below. I can only improve so much from self-criticism, so I would appreciate criticism from an audience. Thank you for reading!


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